


Get Off My Lawn!

by TerminusVerso



Series: Okay, who gave him a knife? [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Aftertale (Undertale), Error Was Geno, I'm Bad At Tagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28717899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerminusVerso/pseuds/TerminusVerso
Summary: Error's always had a troublesome existence- bouncing from universe to universe and destroying any abomination along the way, only to return home to his vast, empty Anti-Void. Every day was a battle, spawning yet another reason to erase all the alternate universes his strings could get a hold of.It didn't help that he mysteriously ended up in a vaguely familiar AU trapped with an appearance foreign to him.
Series: Okay, who gave him a knife? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105253
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Get Off My Lawn!

**Author's Note:**

> A story pulled from my book "Collection of Oddities," so it will be easier for others to locate in the future.

Something happened in the Multiverse- Space and time fluctuated, and the Voids shifted and swayed. It was an _unnatural_ occurrence. One that no monster or human anticipated. And like all unexpected multiversal shenanigans, it had some interesting results. 

For Error, the self-proclaimed destroyer of worlds, the day started off normal enough. He harassed an Underfell Sans, stole yarn for his puppets, laughed at Nightmare when he somehow got his head stuck in a tree, ran away from Nightmare after he escaped the tree, watched a new episode of Undernovela- It was great. Though, something strange occurred later in the day. 

He... fell asleep. And as anyone familiar with him should know, Error did not sleep. Would never sleep. He hates sleeping more than Nightmare loathes his brother.

When the dark destroyer awoke from his dreamless slumber, the sheer whiteness of the Anti-Void did not greet him. Instead, a deep darkness stretched out far beyond what his poor eyesight could see. This puzzled Error. Why did he fall asleep? Where was this place? Had someone kidnapped him while he slept? Blueberry did it, didn't he?! He growled. Error knew he should've never accepted the Swap skeleton's pretty words and friendship vows. Everyone was always a traitor in the end. **_A L W A Y S ._** Friendship means _nothing_ to living beings. It's merely a fancy way of getting close to someone in order to get a better aim at their back. With a sharp, sharp knife in hand. 

Fueled by the rage bound to betrayal, Error sprung off the (oddly grassy) ground and roared into the blackness. "Blueberry! I swear when I get my hands on you, you'll regret every decision you've ever made, and pray for a swift and painless end- Which you _won't_ get!" Usually, the tirade would continue further, however, a little detail caught Error off guard. His voice- It was _normal_. It sounded almost like any other Sans' voice. The only difference between his and Classic's was the ill raspiness that weaved into his words. Kind of like... he had the voice of someone that should, by all means, be dust. The bewildered and angry skeleton glanced down at his hands. They were white. 

"The _funk_?!" Nigh frantically, his eyelights scanned over himself, noting each and every change to his being. Glitches? Replaced by equally uncomfortable white, twitching quadrilaterals. Scarf? Error did not wear one, but he sure was now. The offending article - a tattered red scarf that had no business being on his person - was wrapped neatly around his neck. Cozy hoodie? Gone. An itchy old lab coat replaced the soft, comforting item. Shirt? Exchanged for an article that would be as pristine as the Anti-Void if not for the blood-red slash across it. Shorts? Well, actually, his shorts hadn't changed. His slippers, though? The illegally velvety footwear stolen from Abomination #13? They were gone; In their place was cheap, pink slippers!

"Who in the name of all that is unholy stole _my_ clothes?!" Error growled, staring at the changed articles. The very fact someone had partially undressed him and replaced his clothes made him extremely uncomfortable. Who did something like that? Wait a minute- _Ink_! The insane artist had questionable morals at best, and zero concept of personal space. Not to mention, he was Error's greatest nemesis. Aside from glitter. Allowing Blueberry to bring that fine, sparkling powder into the Anti-Void was a mistake. A great mistake. It got _everywhere_ ; The substance continued to be a nuisance, as Error could not fully rid his home of it. More seemingly spawned from the aether whenever he cleaned.

_Revenge against Ink comes first. I'll deal with that traitorous Swap Sans later._

Huffing, the destroyer examined the surrounding area. It looked like an unimpressive knockoff of the Void. The sole difference between the two was the grass beneath his feet. "What kind of twisted world has grass in an endless void? And only one patch of it? Ink must be losing his grip on reality." Error scoffed, eyeing the landmark. 

As 'exciting' as the dark place was, something about it rubbed him the wrong way, and he wanted to leave ASAP. Plus, he had a vendetta to enact. Which couldn't be completed in the discomforting Void-esque place. With a wave of his hand, Error summoned a porta- Nothing? He blinked. The area chosen for the portal to appear at was empty. How? He tried again. Nothing happened. Gritting his teeth and scowling into the darkness, the destroyer tried again. And again... And again. Sheer stubbornness urged him to continue until exhaustion took over. 

At the end of his desperate attempts to escape, he fell back onto the grass, feeling something unusual. Fatigue paired with an immense tiredness. The kind of tiredness one feels when they need to sleep. It weighed down his eye sockets and was an overall irritating feeling. Error groaned, thinking, _I'll rest my eyes for a little while. Maybe it will make this annoying sensation go away._ And just like that, the land of dreams claimed him. 

Later on, the destroyer awoke to sound of tiny footsteps and the sight of a Frisk. The brown-haired child was crouched beside him, gazing at him in awe, shock, and worry. This irritated Error further. Glaring menacingly at the familiar abomination, he inspected them in an attempt to determine which AU he was currently trapped in. They shifted uncomfortably and appeared somewhat frightened. Why? He may be the destroyer of worlds, but his present form did not portray that in the slightest.

Error's eyelights drifted toward their feet- Feet which were all over the grass, smushing it into the ground. This caused him to snarl, "Hey, brat! Find your own patch of grass, 'cause this one is _mine_." Yes, claiming ownership over a grassy patch was weird- But he'll be damned if he didn't have the only good thing in this dark, endless prison!

Startled by his sudden outburst, the Frisk bolted into the unknown, leaving Error with peace and quiet.

* * *

**\- Later That Day -**

"Geno, please stop this madness!" After, the resident Sans of Aftertale, pleaded to his bloody counterpart. The only reply he received was an angry hiss from the stubborn skeleton who surrounded the Save Screen's patch of grass (and himself) with a bone cage. **  
**

"Gen-"

"Ugh! For funks sake, that is _not_ my name; If you don't stop calling me that, I'll destroy this pitiful world and everyone you hold dear!" Supposedly-not-Geno threatened. After sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. _Nice to see some things don't change._

"Will you at least dissipate your attacks?" He asked, gesturing to all the bones his counterpart summoned around himself. _  
_

"Only when you radholes stop rubbing your grubby little feet all over _my_ grass!"

Needless to say, this wasn't exactly the heartfelt reunion After expected.


End file.
